


Anxiety

by laatibs



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-04-04 16:03:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14023770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laatibs/pseuds/laatibs
Summary: In this alternative universe, Hermione Granger is very anxious, and Draco Malfoy, her boyfriend, knew exactly what to do to calm her down.





	Anxiety

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there!  
> This isn't my first fanfic, but it's the first one I have writen in Portuguese and translated to English. I'm an ESL student and I'm trying to see if I can learn even more! So I'd appreciate very much if you reviewed it with your comments!
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> PS: it's an one shot :)

Draco was dead.

Everything Hermione could think about was his delay, and how long it would take for her anxiety to kill her.

As much as she loved her boyfriend, he was not very punctual – by the way, it was far from that. He had his qualities: he was charming, treated everyone well, and her as if she were a princess. He was romantic, always in a good mood, patient. He was generous, something she liked very much, thank you.

Unfortunately, his punctuality still needed some improvement. He was used to being late for every kind of appointment, even if it was not so important. As he was the owner of his own business, he was late for work and after work too. He was late for meetings, dates, parties, and family Sunday lunches.

Her friends usually tried to tell her it was on purpose. Her mother commonly disagreed (“it is part of his charm, darling!”). Hermione was the only one that agreed with Narcissa: it was a huge lack of respect.

Being anxious, Hermione could not help but bite her mouth from the inside. Her parents, dentists, have always told her not to do it because she would end up having a mouth cancer. Then, she has responded with the fact that everybody would die by cancer someday – it was somewhat morbid, she knew it, but she had become somewhat morbid after dating a dark Draco Malfoy for so long.

Anyway, she thought, he would die today. Her mouth was destroyed, there was no corners left for her to bite, and as she hated biting her nails because it was disgusting, Hermione started pulling her baby hair out, making her fuzz worse than ever.

Talking about her hair, she had tamed her curls that night with the little help from her flat iron – which was something Draco really hated. She was desperate after washing her hair and realizing they were not going to stay in place for the dinner. She ended up with a half-up do braid that fit her outfit perfectly.

While crossing her legs under the very fancy table, on a VIP corner from the even fancier restaurant Draco booked for them, Hermione looked at the clock for the seventh time: it was twelve past seven p.m. T-W-E-L-V-E. He was fucking twelve minutes late, her mouth was destroyed, and her hair was going through the same path. She felt every pull like it was a dull dagger in her chest, each one of them saying Draco was late again. Her heart was pounding, and she decided to go to the restroom.

When she closed the heavy wooden door and locked it, she looked at her fancy dress shining under the thousand crystal light while trying to control her breathing. That was not something easy without Draco: her best way of doing it was paying attention to his beating heart – a trick she has learned after he insisted she needed to search for help regarding her anxiety. Hermione held the sink counter, knuckles as white as the bones themselves, her breath blurring the mirror and her reflection on it. She bit her bottom lip, closing her eyes while still trying to control her breathing.

Her dress, which felt very comfortable when she tried it at home, thank you, was suffocating her. The high heels were tight on her feet, and the jewelry she wore Draco gave her on their very first anniversary. She remembered that day and a small smile painted her face happy, coloring her cheeks and helping her calm down.

A soft knock woke her from the daydreaming session. She bit her lip again and put a stray lock of hair back before walking towards the door and opening it.

“I am so sorry, I was… ”

She started saying, but was interrupted by the arms of the tall man that came from the outside, pulling her back inside while locking the door after them. Hermione looked up and there were grey eyes full of irony gazing her.

“Draco? What are you doing in the ladies room?” She put her hands on her waist, reminding him of his mother.

He smiled and answered in his full ironic voice while adjusting his suit.

“I came to check if there was any hot girl I could snog.”

Hermione gasped when he approached holding her waist and pulling her close.

“Were you lucky?” She whispered in his ear, smiling while feeling his hands on her waist, thighs and ass.

“I am the luckiest guy in the world.” He said back, finally kissing her.

She felt the taste and the smell of whiskey, realizing that he probably had his hands full at work that afternoon. The kiss was full of lust, and her legs felt like jelly with the desire she felt for the man. His hands grabbed her thighs as though they were everything he needed not to succumb to death, and she already felt her air gone.

Draco noticed her panting, kissing down her neck. When Hermione tried to caress his hair, he held her wrists, turning her around in just one movement, trailing his kisses down her back and moving her dress up so he could enjoy the view of her ass.

“Damn… You are too fucking hot.” He muttered. His breathing reached her inner parts making her gasp and shiver. He still had her hand stuck, and when she tried moving them, he reprimanded her while pulling her panty away with his teeth. “You are staying right there, Hermione Granger. Do not move a muscle.”

“How? This is imposs-” She started saying, but his kisses reached her intimacy and she gasped for the third time.

Draco was licking her pussy with the same passion he did with her lips, leaving Hermione with nowhere else to hold – she was falling down the cliff.

“You are late” She observed between gasps.

“…”

“Draco” Her voice was loud and full of lust.

“What?”

“Enough!” She used the word she needed to inform that she was ready for him. On the same moment, he was standing on his feet, pulling her back again and leaning her on the counter, almost ripping her panty on the process. “Hey, this is a new one.”

“I find your curves better off without it” He unzipped his pants urgently.

Hermione bit her lips when she saw him lower his underpants, the butterflies in her stomach going crazy, as though every time she saw him was the first time. She never looked for a Greek God, but she definitely found one that was close enough.

Greek Gods were too perfect, and Draco was far from perfect: he pissed her off, made her desperate, appalled and upset, and messed with her anxiety. After so long, she knew him like the palm of her hand, but he still surprised her from time to time, and that made her even more anxious.

Hermione stopped rambling when he penetrated her without any kind of warning, and she was going to scream, had not his hand flown towards her mouth to cover it. Her eyes popped, and his lips turned into a naughty smile. He was rough and precise, and her head leaned back with pleasure.

With one hand, Draco held her waist firmly, and with the other, he touched her cleavage before putting the cloth away to watch her beautiful breasts pound. He could not help but kissing that part of her body, making Hermione moan louder on his hand. He was so horny he could explode any moment – hearing her moaning, watching her so sexy in front of a mirror, totally open and devoted to him, it was too much.

“Draco, I cannot hold it any longer…”

“Come for me, my Hermione. Go ahead, love.”

He was so very possessive, even more when they were making love. Hearing that possessive pronoun pronounced by this man drove Hermione out of the way. She felt the fall, the explosion and the butterflies, everything at the same time, and his arms tightened around her, meaning he reached the rapture as well.

Her head still leaned back, the air coming out of her with difficulty; she tried to calm her pounding heart with his forehead close to her breasts. She caressed his hair, a little sweaty near his neck, and felt the emptiness fill her when their bodies were away.

“I hate this part.” She muttered, straightening her back up and biting her lip when he laughed.

“Even though I would love staying inside of you all the time, you know I can’t.” He straightened up as well.

Hermione put some water on her face and cleavage, drying it and sighing when she saw him near the door, observing her.

“What?” She blushed.

“I never get tired of looking at you.” He said, opening the door while slapping her ass. There were too old women outside the restroom, who popped their eyes when saw the slap. “Ladies.” He greeted them, making Hermione laugh hard while going back to their table, which was empty.

Hermione found it very awkward. Wasn’t he going to propose? She was almost a hundred percent sure he was and, if so, there should be more people there. I mean, that was the next step, right? They met; check. They fell in love: check. They started dating: check. The next degree on the relationship scale was marriage, wasn’t it? She was confused.

“Where are our parents?” She could not help but ask when he pulled the chair for her.

“I have not invited them.” He was sharp.

She frowned.

“Stop thinking too much, love. You are going to be the first of us to have wrinkles. Do not spoil my surprise, please. Not this time.” He asked, sitting right in front of her.

Hermione’s head was spinning, she could not pay attention to any word he was saying. Her power of illation had always been so perfect! What could have gone wrong this time? Her checklist seemed to be on track…

“Hermione!” He snapped his fingers next to her face, stopping her from daydreaming for the second time.

“I am sorry. What were you saying?”

“I was complimenting you clothes, but I am sorry if I almost made you fall asleep.” He was frowning, mad, but made her laugh while brushing his hand with hers.

The waiter arrived with two bottles of wine and two cups; Draco picked the one on the left and the man served the liquid before leaving with the lunch order.

“What?” He asked, still frowning, because Hermione was smiling at him.

“You never get ugly. Even when you are frowning. How does it feel to be so handsome?” She was unformed.

The blonde’s expression softened and he laughed a little while squeezing her fingers.

“You are so humble. Being the most gorgeous woman in the world must do that to you.

She blushed, and he loved it.

“As I was saying” he tried again. “I think it is time for us to move a step forward, an important one, on our relationship. I mean, you have already conquered you dream job, dream boyfriend…”

“Snob” She pretended to cough, and he squeezed his eyes, staring at her.

“If you keep interrupting me, I will never get around to saying what I came to say…” He was really pissed: she could tell by his crossed arms.

The waiter arrived with the dishes. Hermione was starving, but she was more famished for information. Her anxiety was already showing up as sweat on her neck and breasts. She put the hair up so it would not bother her while she was eating.

“Draco.”

“Yes?” He was chewing the meat slowly, tasting the coarse salt on the barbecue beef. He sipped the wine and his eyes squeezed again, when she bit her lips before she spoke.

“You know I am anxious.” She said as if it were not obvious.

He nodded, not saying a word.

“Just say it!” She almost yelled, and some people around stared her, making her blush violently and Draco laugh hard once again.

“Just as I know you are anxious, you know how I like torturing you. Just as you know I would not bring you to a place like this if I did not have good intentions. Hermione, you need a specialist to take care of this anxiety, you know. I am friends with really great psychologists and they could…”

“You know what cures my anxiety” She muttered, and Draco laughed, sipping more wine.

“Sex?” He asked aloud, drawing stares from the other tables. “What? Don’t you guys get laid?”

Hermione, who was drinking wine at that moment, choked on the liquid, coughing hard and blushing even harder. Draco laughed at her while reaching out for her with a serviette on his hand.

“Thanks.” She muttered, embarrassed as hell.

“As I was trying to say,” He continued, “I booked a party of two today because I wanted to ask you…”

“Here is your dessert, sir.” The waiter approached again, and Hermione exploded with the poor guy.

“I DON’T WANT THE FUCKING DESSERT; I JUST NEED TO KNOW WHAT HE CAME HERE FOR!”

Draco put both hands on his mouth on his attempt to pretend he was not laughing, but it was in vain: every single person around them was frowning at her. She was as red as a tomato, and when she tried to get up, Draco stopped her, still laughing.

“Thank you so much, sir.” He tipped the waiter, who left very satisfied. He touched her chin so she stared at him. “Love, I am just trying to ask you to move in.”

Hermione was both shocked and joyful, for she never guessed he would ask her that. Her eyes popped as her mouth opened the most beautiful smile as she hugged him hard.

“You mean, with your parents? To the Manor?”

“No.” He answered, caressing her cheeks and smiling too. “I have saved some of our money and bought a place in the outskirts of town. I hope you do not mind.” She was nodding, so he kept on. “I would like us to do it today, if it was possible, because the remodeling was over last month and I am dying to know if you are going to like.”

Hermione did not hesitate a bit with the answer on the tip of her tongue.

“Well, of course I want to move in!”

Draco’s smile got bigger, and they could not help but kiss tenderly, not a care in the world.

“Let’s go get our things.” Draco stated, putting an end to the date.

He drove to the apartment where she lived by herself, at London downtown, and helped her pack what was necessary among clothes and hygiene products. They would be back the next day to pack the rest.

“Aren’t we taking my furniture?” She asked.

“No.” He kissed her softly. “You can sell the furnished apartment for a higher price. Furthermore, the Manor is already furnished. You are going to like, I promise.”

“Do you really promise?” She asked, holding his cheeks with both hands delicately.

“Cross my heart and hope to die.” He smiled and kissed her forehead.

She nodded, and they got in the car one more time. This time, Draco drove slowly; the sun was already down, but the lights on the road lighted the way to their new home.

Eleven, twelve, thirteen. Fourteen minutes on the road and they still have not arrived at the Manor. Hermione’s anxiety was taking over her again. She was beating her fingertips along the melody that was coming from the radio while her feet were above the glove compartment.

“Are we close?” She was impatient.

Draco laughed and put the free hand on her thigh, trying to calm her down. “Yes.” His hand slipped close to her core, and she shivered. “You are so gorgeous.” He muttered while putting her panty away.

“It’s your eyes.” She gasped. “Draco, pay attention to the road!”

“I am.” He touched her humidity and laughed.

He circled his fingers on her clit for two or three seconds, making her squirm on the passenger seat. He then licked her liquid on his very fingers to taste her, moaning to the feeling of her lubricant on his tongue.

As soon as she straightened up, they got to the Manor. Twelve feet ivy and purple flowers circled the grounds, which followed them until the black iron gate that contained a camera with a microphone. Draco opened the gate with the car lights and drove through a very beautiful and well-lighted path, full of small rocks and more purple flowers. He parked the car under a white tent.

“This is temporary. The engineer forgot there were supposed to be two more parking spots.”

Hermione nodded and left the car, reaching out to his hand. He turned the porch light on, and she sighed to the wonderful view before her. It seemed that every single detail of that place has been made to look like her, and she had to blink some tears away.

“Love? How do you like it?” Draco squeezed her hand softly, and she hid her face on his shoulder.

“It is perfect. I am speechless.”

“Wait to see what is inside” He smiled, guiding her inside.

The door was open to a big old-appearance key, and they crossed the aisle to reach the other door near the kitchen counter. She did not have time to perceive the decoration, because her attention was dragged by the amount of people standing on her beautiful garden, surrounded by Chinese lamps and gathered around a white gazebo full of purple flowers.

Hermione felt the tears coming down her face and smiled at her family and friends before pulling Draco’s face to her own and attempting to kiss him. He stopped her with a finger on her lips, touching her nose softly and smirking.

“Not yet, love. Do not be so anxious. We can only kiss after you say ‘I do’.”


End file.
